Second Chances
by Pavel-A-Chekov
Summary: When the Joker kills Jason, Bruce realises he can't live without him. So instead of dealing with his pain he makes a deal with a crossroad demon. He gets Jason back but now the clock is ticking. He's got five years left... but what happens when those five years are over and Jason is not willing to let Bruce sacrifice is soul for him?


The first time he meets John Winchester it's a night equally dark and rainy which is not in any way surprising; most nights in Gotham are. Dick would probably say there hasn't been a clear, star filled night sky in forever but contrary to his young sidekick, Bruce is not one to exaggerate.

_Ex-sidekick. _He reminds himself. Dick has left him a few months ago to pursue his solo career as Nightwing and he has yet to prove that Bloodhaven is in any way a less gloomy city than Gotham is. Though, no city could possibly be just as dark as Gotham, least of all worse. They all agree that this is the place where the scum of the human race comes crawling out of the sewers like cockroaches to make the narrow streets and alleyways their home. Just like they agree that Gotham needs the Batman. He is what keeps the city clean enough for the people to carry on with their lives, the one who protects their ignorance and naïveté. The city loves him. The thugs don't but the shadows between the houses always welcome him. The tall buildings always have an edge for him to perch on and watch. The city won't let him down, won't let him fall and hit the ground now that he has learnt to fly and in return he takes care of the cancer that's growing in its very heart.

The man is a stranger in the city and his ID is a fake. Bruce checked it out right after the stranger pretended to be a police officer and asked him about the murder of one of his employees. He also asks Commissioner Gordon, just in case, who informs him about the utter lack of 'Gregory Hilton's in their databank. Bruce answers the stranger's questions with a smile; Batman keeps an eye on him. He leaves his office as early as he can allow it and hurries back to the Batcave to suit up. The stranger is easy to find, he's probably not exactly expecting to be followed. Batman follows him until he's down at the docks, obviously looking for someone or something.

The man pulls out a gun and then a long blade, something one would expect from some horror slap stick but everything's possible in Gotham. Before he can move another step Batman's on him, his cape carrying him far enough to kick the gun from the guy's hand and then land on his feet as graciously as a bat possibly can. He whirls around immediately, getting a hold of the gun on the ground and throwing it as far as he can until they hear the splash it creates when it hits the water. Whoever the stranger is, he has to have been a soldier before he went into whatever the business is he's doing now; he carries himself like one, weight balanced on both feet, the blade to his side, ready to strike. But Batman is better than a mere soldier and the moment the other tries to attack him with that knife of his, he's dodging, his fist connecting with the man's stomach, making him double over. The man may be good for a civilian but it takes Batman only a few moves to get him to drop the knife; another two punches and he has him backed against the wall.

"What are you doing in Gotham?" He growls but the man meets his eyes, well his mask, without fear. It surprises the vigilante. These are the eyes of a man who has seen his fair share of horrors, the eyes of a man who has been broken and who has nothing left to fear: be it death or worse. "What are you doing in my city?" He asks again, his arm pressing against the other's throat, possibly almost crushing his windpipe. The man only stares at him and then some of the tension seems to seep out of him as he doesn't find what he's looking for.

"I'm a cop. Investigating a murder..."

"Don't. Lie to me." Batman is about to try the usual, 'throwing him from a building only to catch him right before he hits the pavement' method to see if he can get him to talk that way. Instead he pulls out a Batarang. The razor sharp skin is biting into the guy's neck and maybe Alfred is right about him getting more violent these days because he doesn't care how much he has to cut off this guy as long as he keeps him alive. "You better talk or you'll end up at the bottom of the sea, cut into nice little pieces."

"I'm hunting vampires."

There is a moment of silence in which Batman tries to find out if the guy is trying to make a fool out of him or if he's simply insane. But he knows insane men and women, too many for his taste and this guy looks nothing like them. He doesn't look like a liar either but looks can be deceiving. He doesn't get to voice his thoughts though because there's the sound of footfalls right behind them and he whirls around only to see a shadow approaching them. It takes him a second to move away from the stranger and to the other man who attacks him with a speed that surprises Batman.

The man is fast, faster than anything he's seen so far and his punches are strong enough that the dark knight can hear his chest armour cracking. There's a flash of teeth in the moonlight, a flash of long and sharp and definitely not human teeth and Bruce flinches back. He knows metas. He has worked with Superman and Flash but he has never seen anything like that. He dodges another punch but the man, thing whatever it was hit his shoulder, almost shattering the bones. He's just about to grab something useful from his utility belt when he hears shots. The stranger has pulled another gun and he's shooting the thing in front of him."Don't!" Batman shouts at the man but he isn't listening. The meta is stumbling backwards, then falling to his knees and finally collapsing on the ground.

"Don't approach it." The stranger is reloading his gun. Batman doesn't listen to him. Instead he's approaching the meta, feeling his pulse. Nothing. There's no heartbeat. He's not breathing. He's about to jump to his feet to confront the stranger when the apparently dead man opens his eyes and stares at him. He opens his mouth to a grin and Batman can once again see the two rows of fangs. He acts quickly but not quickly enough because the thing grabs his arm and almost rips it out, claw like fingernails ripping through the fabric of his sleeve and tearing the skin like paper. Batman doesn't make a sound. Instead he pulls out a stun gun and presses it directly onto the thing's throat. It coughs and its hands are trembling for a moment before losing their grip on Batman's arm. Whatever the guy is, he's out cold now, unmoving.

Batman cuffs him and then turns to look at the stranger who's still standing there, gun pointed at the meta. There's no surprise written in his eyes or his face just disgust. He knows those creatures, he's hunting them.

Batman doesn't attack him this time. Instead he slowly rises and glares at the stranger for a long moment. "You have a lot to explain."

And John Winchester explains; he explains everything. Some things are hard to believe but Batman has seen people run at super speed, he has fought alongside amazons, mermen and women. He knows a woman with the wings of a hawk and a man who can melt metal with his eyes alone. He's nothing but used to surprises. John lets Batman upload his personal notes into the Batcomputer and in exchange he's allowed to use it. The only thing Batman has trouble accepting is that it is seemingly necessary to kill the supernatural beings. But John convinces him that they aren't human anymore. They are monsters, animals without thought or a consciousness. They work together to kill the vampires hiding in the abandoned docks in Gotham and on the day they are done John invites him to a drink. Batman declines but John just shrugs and pulls his flask out of his jacket. They return to the Batcave and Batman watches the man getting drunk.

After a while he talks about his children, two sons, old enough to stand on their own feet but he still feels like he has to look out for them. Dean, the older one still hunts together with him most of the time. Sam, the younger one is away at college in Stanford, studying law. John doesn't say it but he's proud of them, both of them. He asks Batman if he has any children and Batman says he had one but he lost him. Then he doesn't say anything else. John doesn't know that he is Bruce Wayne, he doesn't know about the famous bachelor or socialite, he doesn't read celebrity papers. Batman knows that this is an ally he should keep.

John leaves Gotham the day after they destroyed the vampires' nest. There's no goodbye: Batman only shows up at night and he drives out of town in the morning.

* * *

Jason is the one to go after the Joker. Wonderful, courageous Jason who is sometimes to brave for his own good. Jason is also the one who ends up in the warehouse, hands cuffed and unable to move. The Joker is looming over him, nothing more than a dark shadow in the corner of his eye when he tries to turn his head. He's got something in his head and Jason recognises it as a crowbar after the first few blows. It hurts. It hurts like hell but he bites his tongue not to scream. He feels his bones breaking, he can even hear them, and the ugly sound of skin ripping open, blood dripping onto the ground is all around him. After a few minutes he can feel blood in his mouth and his teeth click together where he has bitten through the flesh of his tongue. There's nothing left but pain, excruciating pain. He doesn't know if he screams or not. His mouth is numb, his throat is raw. Breathing seems to get harder and harder and he feels a pain in his chest that doesn't origin in his broken ribs. He probably really punctured a lung. The Joker is laughing again, talking about something but Jason doesn't understand the words. His blood is rushing in his ears, his heartbeat is even louder. It drowns out everything else.

"And tell the big man I said... _hello_."

The Joker's gone. He left him there, lying on the ground, bleeding; dying. Robin has been shot, has had bones broken. Cuts and bruises were what he brought with him every night when returning the manor. But this pain is worse. He feels like he's dying and he probably is. Bruce has told him what to do in situations like this. Try to get out of wherever you are and wait for reinforcement. If you can still walk, try to get to a safer place, if you can't, drag yourself somewhere where you're easy to find. But right now he can't move.

Bruce. Where are you Bruce? I need you.

He doesn't know if he spends minutes or hours lying there on the cold, hard ground. It's probably just seconds but he knows that he has to get to Bruce. Bruce will be able to save him, he always does. Bruce will know what to do, will make it right again. Bruce will heal him.

He forces himself to stand up, his body trembling, his breathing is unsteady, the breaths ragged and short. He can't seem to get enough air into his lungs. The first step hurts like a bitch. The second makes him stumble and fall right back to the ground. The ankle is obviously broken. The leg too probably.

Don't give up Jason. Bruce never gives up. You have to get outside so he can find you.

Breath for breath he's slowly making his way to the door, dragging his body over the unyielding ground and the world is spinning around him. It's even harder to breathe now; lying flat on the floor makes the rip sink deeper into his lung cutting off his breath almost completely. He can't see much. There's blood running down his face and into his eyes. The joker hit his head pretty hard that's probably why his vision is slowly getting blurred. Maybe he'll end up blind but blind is better than dead, right?

He arrives at the door and exhales in relief. He only has to reach up and grab the handle and he'll be out of here. Bruce will be there. He's probably not very far away; of course he'll be there...

The door is locked.

Now that he's no longer focusing on getting to the door, he can hear something. Something other than his own breath and the whimpering that's escaping his throat with every breath.

His heart stops for a moment.

The whole world stops for a moment.

It's a bomb.

He can see it clearly, he can hear it ticking.

9

It's ridiculous how funny some things appear in moments like that. Only yesterday they argued about how Jason was always doing things he wasn't supposed to do. Only a day ago they had dinner together in this nice and ridiculously fancy restaurant and Bruce was smiling at him over his menu and Jason knew that Bruce was nothing like that but he considered it a date. His first real date.

8

Why did they argue? Why did they ever argue? Life's too precious to waste it with pointless arguments. Instead Jason should've savoured his time with Bruce. He's gotten used to it, he has gotten used to the other's presence that's why he was such a cocky, bratty kid. He regrets it now. He regrets a lot right now.

7

Jason knows it's no use to cry.

Bruce will be there. Bruce has never left him hanging. Even when it was trouble he brought on himself. Bruce forgave him everything, even when he crashed his really expensive motorcycle. Bruce forgave him every time he tore his suits or got into a fight at school. He forgave him every bad day, all his moods and him sneaking out of the manor to go to concerts and get drunk with strangers. He was always there to get him afterwards.

6

Not enough time. They didn't have enough time. But is it ever enough time?

5

Bruce... will be there to get him. He'll be there. Right on time like he always is. Last time when they were in trouble, Bruce was there too, saving him. Bruce always made sure Jason was okay first before he went after the bad guys. He was always so worried about him.

Bruce will be there.

4

Jason closes his eyes and breathes. It's not numbing the pain but it's the only thing he can do. He bumps his back against the door but it's only making the pain worse.

3

He won't. Bruce is not coming to save him. Bruce will never be coming for him ever again. He will never see Bruce again. He will never touch him again. He will never wear the Robin suit ever again.

2

Bruce isn't here. He's going to fucking die.

1

Jason raises his cuffed hands and touches the R on his chest. Bruce.

Bruce.

0

* * *

He's too late.

Batman knew it the whole time, he felt it; his instincts were yelling it into his ears as he pushed his bike as hard as he could. Faster. Just a tiny bit faster. Bruce didn't give up the hope that they would still make it. But the moment he is at the foot of the hill, the Joker nowhere in sight and only that lonely warehouse in front of him he knows it. It seems so peaceful, abandoned, no car tracks, nothing. It is wrong. He jumps off his bike ready to run into whatever trap this is, when the building explodes. The shock wave almost throws him to the ground then it's suddenly raining debris. Everything is on fire. He doesn't see where he is going; his feet are carrying him on their own right into the middle of what once was the abandoned warehouse.

The smoke is biting into his eyes; he feels his throat itch but he doesn't give a fuck. There's still this tiny spark of hope. Jason could be alive. He could have escaped before the explosion, he could've survived it due to the luck the boy always had. Maybe the joker had only stripped Robin of his utility belt and left it here so that Batman would follow the wrong signal. Maybe he has never even entered this building... But then he sees it. Between the darkened, burning debris there's something else, something red and yellow and his heart stutters. He holds his breath, running the last few steps and tearing the few planks away from the body hidden underneath them. There's blood everywhere. The sight makes him sick, makes him want to cry but still... Bruce is still holding onto that tiny bit of hope, desperately hoping that some wonder saved him, saved his Jason. But the body is too broken. His limbs are sticking out at odd angles, the skin is torn open and Bruce can see white bones shimmering in the bloody mass. His face is almost intact. There's a huge wound right over his left eye and the blood is covering his pale skin. He's so beautiful. Even with his body broken and torn apart he's still so beautiful and so very, very young. He chokes out a sob and carefully cradles the dead boy in his arms, pressing him as close to his own chest as he can. His legs are wobbly as he stands up, he feels tears welling in his eyes and he doesn't swallow them down. They disappear in the cloth of his mask.

He was too late. How could he let down his Robin, his son like that? How could he leave him to die? Why was he not here earlier? It is his fault. His fault alone. He wants to scream, wants to burn down the world because they did this to someone as young as that. Someone who still had a future, a life. It should've been him. If Bruce could switch their places he would do it without thinking twice. He gently runs his fingertips over the boy's cheek, resting them on those beautiful lips. They never kissed. Bruce knows the boy desired him but he had always felt like it was his responsibility to not touch him to not give him hope for something else. Jason once told him he was in love with him and that he'd never stop, after he had picked him up from a concert. Jason was drunk and Bruce didn't know how to reply because he loved the kid like he had never loved anyone before and he desired him so much and it was so very wrong. So instead of saying anything he had taken Jason's hand and held it all the way back to Wayne manor. Luckily Jason fell asleep before they reached the house and he didn't seem to remember anything the next day.

Now he regrets it. He regrets a lot of things. When he gently strips Jason of the few pieces of clothing that identify him as Robin, he regrets ever taking him under his wing. If he had made sure the boy got another, loving foster family he would've never been Robin, he would've never ended up dead because of some lunatic with a grudge on Batman. When he calls the police, he regrets ever letting Jason out of his sight. When he stays with the lifeless body of his adopted son, he regrets not telling Jason how much he loved him, how much he cared for him.

It's all too late now.

It doesn't feel like it did when he lost Dick because Dick is still there. Dick's still alive. Dick's Robin was nothing like Jason's Robin. Bruce loved Dick but he never desired him, never wanted him the way he wanted Jason. His fingers are trembling, his tears are dried but he still feels them. He's empty. His heart has been torn out, ripped apart. There's nothing inside him but pain, grief and anger. He's angry, so very angry. Jason has cured him from the anger he felt before he met the kid. The kid that managed to make him laugh in Crime Alley on the anniversary of his parents' death. The kid that made him feel like he wasn't broken whenever they were watching TV together, snuggling on the couch; whenever they were going out like normal humans did. The kid who was too mature for his age and probably even too mature for Bruce himself. Now he was angry again and it was a different kind of anger. It was the kind of anger that would destroy him. He needed the kid, he needed Jason. No one else could heal that gaping wound inside of him.

He strokes Jason's hair and he can't accept that he won't ever see him laugh again.

Soon the place is crowded with policemen and paramedics. He's still holding the child in his arms.

"Do you know the boy, Batman?"

"What happened?"

"What was that explosion?"

"Batman?"

Batman doesn't answer.

Bruce doesn't let go of the boy in his arms. He carries him to the black car himself. He won't let anyone else touch him. He's his. He doesn't want to part with Jason even if it's only his lifeless body. But he has to. It tears him apart when he tells the police that this is the son of Bruce Wayne who has been kidnapped. It tears him apart when he sees them driving away and he can only follow on his motorbike.

When he's at the hotel he turns back into Bruce Wayne. And he cries. The police knock on his door and they tell him his son is dead and he weeps. They look at him with sympathy but they don't understand. They cannot possibly understand. They ask him to come and confirm that it is indeed his young ward that is lying in the morgue. He goes with them and he clutches Jason's cold hand. He doesn't want to let go again. He can't let go. His mind is running in loops, he's so desperate to find something that will help him. He wants revenge, of course he does. He will find the Joker. He wants so badly just to kill him, to rid the earth of this piece of shit in Jason's name. He's so very angry.

He leaves Jason in the morgue. Jason hates buildings like that, he remembers. The walls are all white and it's so quiet. Jason was never quiet. Never the type who could sit still for long without talking.

Bruce Wayne takes the dead body of his son with him when he leaves for the US. He doesn't want to bury him in some graveyard thousands of miles away from him. If he can't be with Jason he at least wants to know that he's close. Alfred is there, at the airport and he looks like he hasn't slept in days. Bruce hasn't found a night of sleep since Jason died. He didn't even try. His life is nothing without Jason. It is empty and pointless and he wonders how he's never seen just how bright everything was when Jason was still alive. But apparently you can only know what you have when it's already gone. There is a Jason shaped hole in his chest and Bruce doesn't know how to live with it.

"Shall we call Master Richard?" But Bruce shakes his head. No. There's no use in calling Dick. Dick loved the boy like a brother. Bruce doesn't want to upset him now. He would find out anyway. They would have to invite him to the funeral; Jason would want it that way.

There's something nagging at the back of his head during the drive back to the manor. Alfred has made sure Jason's coffin will be brought too, just with a different car. Bruce accepted it because he is already obsessed enough; he doesn't want his butler to worry any more. Alfred worries too much anyway. He doesn't stop at the Manor; instead he directly heads down into the cave. Everything is still exactly as they left it. There's a picture. The only picture sitting on the desk, right next to one of the large screens. Jason's on it and so is Dick. They're standing there, arms thrown over each other's shoulders though Jason is still a good few inches smaller than Dick. They're grinning into the camera and it's not a faked grin, not the forced one you find on many photos. They seem honestly happy and it's heartbreaking. Bruce stares at the photo and the urge to throw it away fights with the urge to hug it close to his chest.

It is only when he looks at his always bright computer screen filled with news from all over the world that he remembers something from long ago. Suddenly he's in a hurry and his fingers are flying over the keyboard as he tries to find the data he knows has to be there somewhere. It's a folder that is titled simply 'Winchester' and it is, of course, password protected. He knows there is something. There has to be something in that world of magic and monsters that will help him; there has to be something that can bring Jason back, his Jason.

He tears through the records, through the notes John had in this notebook of his. There's vampires, werewolves, ghosts, banshees, wendigos and there's demons. Bruce halts. The cursor is hovering over the page filled with scribbled notes about demon sightings.

Cross road demon.

He considers searching the web but why trust whatever sources he can find online when you can ask someone who has to know everything about this kind of thing?

He calls John Winchester.

The phone rings three times before the man picks up and he doesn't sound amused. Bruce understands, it's probably around 4 in the night but still he needs answers and he needs them fast. He doesn't even waste any time with introducing himself because he's sure John knows who he is. No one ever forgets Batman after meeting him once.

"Tell me everything you know about crossroad demons."

* * *

"This is a bad idea. A very bad idea."

"I do not think this wise, Master Bruce."

Neither John Winchester nor Alfred are very happy to hear about his thoughts; they both tried to talk him out of doing something as stupid as this obviously is. "One does not mess with the dead, not even Batman." He hasn't told Alfred about what he will have to pay for getting Jason back but the butler seems to know anyway. Or maybe he just knows that it is a dumb idea to make a deal with a demon since they usually never give anything away for free.

He doesn't listen to them. He knows they are right though, he knows he shouldn't be doing this. But he is and he doesn't care. If he has to give away his soul to get his boy back, to know Jason will get a second chance at living at being happy... then it is the price he is more than willing to pay. He will give away anything to get him back. Batman needs his partner, Batman needs Robin. And Bruce, Bruce needs Jason so desperately. The moment he read about the demons he felt something inside his head click, something switch into place and he didn't spend a night sleeping since then without dreaming about getting him back.

The tall, dark haired man stands at the abandoned road. It's not far outside Gotham but far enough so that no one will see him. His hands are shaking not because he is afraid but because he is anxious, excited. He tries to hide it but his trembling fingers give it away. He doesn't care. John told him demons can sense human emotions anyway. He won't have to tell Dick now. He won't have to tell his ex-sidekick that he has lost the only younger brother he has ever had. He will just tell him Jason was hurt badly. There was no funeral, not yet. There are rumours spreading that Bruce Wayne's son got caught in the bombing in Sarajevo but there are no sources that know anything for sure. Sometimes being wealthy and having influence on a lot of people proves really useful.

His feet carry him over to where the roads cross. He estimates where the middle of said cross is and kneels. The earth is dry and sandy under his fingers and his head is filled with Jason. He can hear the boy's laughter it is still ringing in his mind. He can feel the boy's touch, his fingertips on his own upper arm. Jason has always been so enthusiastic about everything. He was raw, wild and sometimes he used unnecessary force but he was always a good kid. He tries to shove it all away because he doesn't yet have him back. He needs to get him first. This is how he can make it all up. He can pay the price for his mistakes like this.

When he has buried the small box he steps back.

Bruce waits and for a long time nothing happens. He feels his heart sink, feels the small seed of hope he has so desperately tried not to grow, wither. Then there are steps on the gravel of the road. He whirls around. A woman is standing there, a woman with long hair and big, blue eyes. She is beautiful, wide hips, plunging neckline and dark, flawless skin.

"Why hello sweety, you called me?" Her accent reminds him of southern shores and days spend in the burning sun. He will have to take Jason there once; he will have to take Jason everywhere that isn't Gotham to show him what the world looks like.

"Are you a demon?" he asks because she doesn't look like a demon. The bible speaks of ugly beings; John talked about monsters taking over human hosts so he expected something else.

"What do you think?" She closes her eyes and when she opens them again they are jet black like the abyss itself. Bruce wonders if this is where Jason is right now; if he is in that deep, monstrous pit lit by everlasting flames. But no. If there's something true in what they say about god and heaven and hell then hell can't be where Jason has gone. He was a good kid. He hated crime and he hated those who hurt others maybe even more than Dick because he understood what their victims felt like. He knew firsthand what drugs could do to a desperate woman; he knew the gang wars that took away fathers and mothers; he knew what crime bosses did to their subordinates if they weren't following orders. Jason had seen so much; he had been there and still he was a good kid. He would've given his life had Bruce asked him for it. The 'taking bullets for Batman' was a habit the new Robin had acquired. He was a brash, arrogant kid and he hated following orders but he was a good kid. A kid that any sane god would welcome in heaven.

He wants to say something but she speaks before he can even open his mouth to free the words burning on his tongue. "I know why you're here. You came to make a deal because you want your little lover back. You miss him don't you? Or are you just afraid of being alone?" Both. He was so very afraid of the darkness inside him. Jason and Dick before him had been what kept Bruce sane, what kept Batman from killing and now with the Joker on the loose and Jason's blood on the criminal's hands it was worse than ever. But he would never admit that.

"Jason was my son." He bites his teeth together and clenches his fists because it is hard to keep still when she breaks out into laughter as if he had said something ridiculously funny.

"Oh aren't you adorable. I'm sure your son appreciates your effort to bring him back to 'daddy'." She tilts her head and the venomous smile on her lips widens further. "But are you really sure he's worth it? You'll have to pay and a favour like this isn't going to be cheap. Why don't you just forget all about little Jason and find yourself some other young, pretty boy? Maybe one that is less of a tease and more willing to do anything you ask of him?"

"Anything. I will pay any price to get him back." He forces himself to ignore her words and what she is implying. For a moment he thinks she's going to just leave him. Then she smiles again.

"Five years. I can bring him back to life and I will even give you a whole five years together. It would be a shame not to give the both of you the chance to finally hook up. But when the five years are over your soul will be mine to collect."

Batman doesn't want to make the deal. John said the demon usually grants them ten years. But Bruce is afraid when he tries to talk her into giving him more time she will disappear and with her his only chance to get Jay back.

"Do it." It feels like he's doing the worst mistake of his life. He doesn't stop her when she's stepping closer, cradling his face with her hands. She kisses him and he lets it happen.

Bruce has expected something to happen, something spectacular, something magic maybe simply because this supernatural world seems to be all about showing off. There's no thunder, no lightning. There's no noticeable shift in the time space continuum. Instead the woman – demon steps back and grins. "You better go. There's no time to lose now that the clock is ticking for you two." Then she opens her mouth and a cloud of black smoke escapes into the darkened night sky. The human she has possessed stumbles backwards and falls to the ground, staring up at him in obvious confusion and horror.

"Where am I? What have you done to me?"

"It's alright. I think you hit your head pretty hard, Miss. We better take you to a hospital." She hesitates and searches her pockets for something, probably her mobile. When she doesn't find anything but the keys to a car that is parked miles away she nods sheepishly and follows him to the car. Bruce thinks about lecturing her not to go with strangers or something but it isn't like he is a stranger to any of the people here, there's probably not a soul in Gotham who hasn't seen his face in the news or the paper.

He leaves her at the hospital, telling the doctors something about finding her in the middle of nowhere without a clue what she was even doing there. He can't think of any better explanation right now but it doesn't matter whether or not they believe him; the hospital is named after his mother and sponsored by the Wayne Company. They never dare to ask him any questions afraid of losing their sanctions. His head isn't exactly in the game right now. He's speeding, pushing the expensive sports car to its limits just as he's ignoring every single red light on his way back to the Manor.

He has to be there to see if Jason really wakes up. He needs to see that he hasn't traded his soul for nothing.


End file.
